


The Snack That Smiles Back

by Facetoteca



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (like just the concept alone no specific incident), Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous time frame after the 2019 oneshot, Anxiety Disorder, Autistic Near | Nate River, Banter, Character Study, Comedy, Coping, Depressed Near, Dramedy, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gaming, Gen, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gender Roles, Grief/Mourning, Memes, Messy vacillation between shitposting and sad stuff, Mind Games, Nintendo - Freeform, Nonbinary Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pop Culture, Post-Canon, Ryuk getting progressively more flustered and exasperated with each chapter, Ryuk is a Softie, Ryuk's gaming obsession, Shut-in nerd hobbies, Slice of Life, Sudden and strange headcanons about Lidner's reasons for joining the Kira case, dead character mentions, did i mention there was small-talk? with everyone involved? every Single Fuckening Character? wheee!, looooots of talking!, rape mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20967779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Facetoteca/pseuds/Facetoteca
Summary: Ryuk can't leave well-enough alone after A-Kira and opts to tempt one of the few survivors of the original Kira case in a fit of boredom. Things do not go as planned.





	1. Midnight Munchies

“Nate River.”

The Shinigami’s hissing voice called out from the darkness at the end of the sterile room. Although he had no way of seeing himself in his menacing crouch, Ryuk figured the framing was marvelous. 

That weak human was already writhing, his name and lifespan bobbing back and forth as his pathetic little head lolled over and crinkled the pillow beneath it. The terror of a sudden intrusion by a god of death, into his most intimate livingspace, surely must have been too much for this whelp to withstand! He couldn’t suppress his wicked chuckle as the feeble thing’s mouth opened, perhaps to scream…?

“...Good morning, Shinigami. It is 3:43 AM. Why are you here?”

_ …Does he just speak in a monotone? _He didn’t even look phased, just that same blank bug-eyed look as always. A soft, cooing yawn escaped his lips as he pushed himself up with one arm into a half-slump, leaning most of his weight into the thin maple headboard. No matter, what followed would definitely scare the piss right out of him!

“Time doesn’t matter to me, kid. What does matter, though… I’ve been pretty bored again. And uh, did anyone ever tell you what happens when a Shinigami gets bored…?”

His bony fingers caressed the matte-black cover of the notebook, lips upturned in a demented, needle-toothed grin as the motion made a dry little scraping noise.

“Evidently, they come to visit human beings at the ass-crack of dawn when everyone else is trying to sleep.”

_Geez louise…! _ That little brat was actually _ smiling _ now, what a smug piece of shit! _ Shoulda known better, he never so much as flinched in the warehouse… Fuck, though..._

Ryuk swallowed the sigh before it could betray the beginnings of his exasperation.

“I bet you feel like a real whiz-kid right now, don’t you…? But you’re missing my point here. I think we can both agree that you think yourself an arbiter of justice. Even if you don't like how Kira did things… the two of you are pretty similar people.”

“Perhaps.” Near said, his knee pushing into his chest as he twirled a long strand of his hair on his finger.

“And even from this little nest of yours, even as you send your goons out while you sit up here in safety with all your knick-knacks and games…”

Ryuk drifted like smoke, wings unfurled, resting half an inch from the human’s face. Near’s eyes drifted to the side of the piercing gaze, countenance remaining stony. 

“...Even then, Near, I know you've seen some stuff you wish you could forget. You humans have killed and raped since the dawn of time, and you’re only getting better at it. And you, kid, are the cleanup crew of our rotten new age. You’re getting the absolute dregs of your race.”

Measured as those little breaths were, the heat with each puff was tantalizing, perverse… made Ryuk’s cold skin tingle. He could almost taste the prize. 

“You get to lock up the ones you catch forever… But don't you wish you could do a little more? And what about the ones you can never catch, those corrupt fat cats who rule the world…? Hate to say it, but you'd _ really _ have to be dead on the inside if that doesn't bother you at least a little bit. I mean, shit, it even kinda bugs _ me _!”

The third L’s dusky gray eyes were now locked on Ryuk’s chin. Not quite a meeting of gazes, but hey, progress? He inhaled, slow and smooth.

“...Perhaps so, Shinigami. This world is writhing in anthropogenic death throes. Those responsible for its death have names, faces, addresses. You’re correct when you posit this course of action you infer as tantalizing, irresistibly so. I’m sure anyone would agree.”

“Uh-_ huhhhhh… _” Ryuk croaked, fingers twiddling the notebook’s pages in a gleeful ripple. He licked his lips as he continued, his shoulders giving a playful roll and crook. 

“So… What are you gonna do about it, little man?”

Those hungry Shinigami eyes darted back and forth, from the book in his hands to the face of his prey. Kid must have thought he was unreadable. Yet the slight wobble of his knee and the slow stroke of the finger in his long candyfloss hair… 

“...What can one little man do about it, Ryuk?”

The monotone hadn’t wavered an inch. Frail as he seemed, kid was made of granite. _ Fuck me… _

“Oh I think we _ both _ know what one man can do, _ L _.”

His forehead was now pressing against that of his quarry, impatient malice in his fishy eyes. The intrusion seemed to catch Near off his guard, and Ryuk could feel that small body flinch.

Still, his eyes refused to meet those of his aggressor. He stayed planted in place by the pale blue wads of bed linens.

“...One man doesn’t have the right. Yagami Light’s life and death are a cautionary example of this truth. The lives and deaths of _ all _Kiras that followed are as well.”

“You’re so sure of that?” He growled, drawing back a few inches, but also using the notebook to tilt Near’s head upward by the chin.

“Then what gives one man the right to be L…? You really think it’s such a big leap…?”

He leaned his head in again, making sure to gape his toothy maw extra wide with each prolonged vowel. His teeth were almost grazing the boy’s throat. 

“…Or are you just scared of becoming what killed your mentor?”

Near’s face began to waver from that scowl. Ryuk’s eyes were locked right onto his as they finally drew upward, making contact, a strange glint in them, perhaps fear…?!

...They crossed, and the boy’s tongue poked out, and he blew a quiet, spittley raspberry right in Ryuk’s face.

“_ EW _, HEY–!”

He shoved the scrawny brat backward and into a pillow, recoiling and scooping up the blanket to wipe the flecks of spit from his head. A weak, hissy little chuckle emanated from the pile of bedclothes and skinny human limbs. 

“_ Geez _… I’ll admit, that took some balls... but I’m pretty pissed off now, ya know?”

Ryuk made sure to _ really _ growl out those last syllables, wasn’t easy to get under this one’s skin by any measure. He drifted up onto the bed and knelt over that awful giggling manlet, shoving the Death Note in his general direction and fumbling around with his other hand for something else… A visual aid, there _ had _to be something like that in this guy’s bed. At least he could buy some more time by talking.

“See, this boredom of mine, I’m pretty serious about it. Serious enough to where I’d _ kill _ to have some relief. And if I've gotta kill _ you _…”

“You certainly could,” Said Near as he pushed himself back up, “and I would have no way to stop you.”

“That's right, I could… Or!”

He snatched a little plush doll from the edge of the bed, waving it in Near’s face with his fingers tightly clasped around its throat.

“You seem fond of your staff, don't you…? I happened to catch a _ juicy _ conversation between you and, oh _ who _ was it again…? His alias was Rester, wasn't it…? Ah! _ Anthony Carter. _”

Jostle jostle, went the doll for threatening emphasis! A flick of the wrist was really all it took to give it a good spooky shake.

“He seems like a real family man, huh…? I'm sure his wife and kids would be _ devastated _if something were to happen to him…”

“Commander Rester isn't that fat.” Near said, inflection flat and unamused. Ryuk bit his lip.

“...When did I say he was fat? What are you talking ab–”

His eyes widened when he actually looked at the doll in his hand. Plump, ugly, weird little mustache and hat… _ Wait a second! _

“Whoa, is that Evil Mario…? Shit, his name was–… it's on the tip of my tongue, uhhh… Bario…?”

“_Wario _, you were very close.”

Near smiled and held up a finger as though he was some sort of Nintendo expert.

“_No way _, that's right!”

He clasped the doll to his fur-ruffed chest in childlike wonderment, unable to hide the delight, and erupted in hearty chuckles.

“Eheheha, yeah, I remember him now! He was such a hard-hitter in Mario Golf, but his aim sucked so bad. Why've you got a little plush of him?”

“I've developed a fondness for Wario, since he's my main in Super Smash Bros.”

“Aw, now you're just pullin’ my leg! I unlocked _ everyone _in Smash, there's no Wario there.”

Near tilted his head to the side.

“Which one did you play?”

“Uhhh, the one for the GameCube… Heard about the first one for the 64, but I never played it. Was there _ more _?”

Those creepy gray eyes widened, almost solemn.

“...I have something very important to show you. But in order to see it, you’ll have to ferry me on your back into the other room.”

Ryuk folded his arms, brow furrowed.  
  
“That sounds bogus... How come?”

“I have recurrent mobility issues and am also legally blind in the dark. You wouldn’t be able to see it if I tripped and cracked my skull on the floor, would you?”

“Hmmm…”

Ryuk mentally weighed his options, looking to the doll of Wario for moral support. It grinned at him.

“...Ahhh, fair enough. But it’d better be good or I’ll kill you.”

Near was already climbing atop Ryuk, digging his skeletal knees and feet into the Shinigami’s flesh.

“OWWW, owww that’s poking me, that _ hurts _! Ughhh…”

Defeated, the cranky god of death floated out the door and down the dark halls. The pale light from a multitude of screens drew him into the large office, Near’s favorite haunt.

“Right down there, in the corner. See that little red and blue thing?”  
  
He leaned to the right and pointed from his perch, nearly tipping Ryuk off balance.

“Ghh–… Yeah, okay, I think I– _ WHOA _ that’s _ really _ a Nintendo?!”

_SWOOP! _He pounced like a cat on the console, scooping it up in his greedy paws as his frail passenger toppled off his back.

“Maaaaan, it’s got its own little fuckin’ _ screen _…! And it’s like the new version of the Wii?”

Near groaned a bit as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, yet nonetheless was smiling.

“Yep, the Nintendo Switch. It’s the new generation of Nintendo consoles, but is portable like a handheld. You can take it anywhere. And what’s more…”

He scooted himself to Ryuk’s side and took the Switch into his own hands, making sure to hold it nice and close to the Shinigami’s face as he turned it on. Such a busy startup screen, more going on there than even the Wii… But all those characters in the top left, where the human’s pale finger pointed, could it be…?! 

“Look here. What do you think _ this _game could be, Ryuk…?”

Even though gods of death have no need to breathe air, as humans do, they have within their strange, half-rotten bodies organs homologous to lungs. This permits speech in the human sense, as well as other human-like sounds, such as coughing, hiccuping and gasping.

Ryuk, in this moment, made such a loud, long and dramatic gasp that it put all living humans and their lungs to shame.

“SUPER SMASH BROTHERS… _ ULTIMATE??? _”

* * *

“–and there's all these characters that aren't even Nintendo ones, can you believe it? And you can make your own stage– I did one with a big pit in the middle so you can just knock people into it!”

Sidoh and Midora watched Ryuk’s excited gesticulations from below his perch atop a jutting bonelike structure, either stunned in silence or just unable to get a word in edgewise.

“And I found out I really like this skeleton guy, Sans! He's not a _ real _character, but apparently all the fans were just going nuts when they added him because he's some kind of joke or fad, and– oh and get this! I fuckin’ four-stocked the human boy on our last match, with the skeleton! I think this is what humans call an ‘epic gamer moment’. Kehehahahaha, isn't it just crazy?”

Sidoh broke his silence at last, leaning forward and squinting up at Ryuk as his creaky voice whined.

“...I dunno what any of those words mean! You're just gonna piss the King off again with all this stupid crap, y’know?”

Midora, on the contrary, was amused. She burbled in laughter, her gelatinous jowls quaking.

“If you're worried about getting in trouble, my lips are sealed. That's just so wild! And he just let you stay there and do all that?”

“Yeah! We only stopped cuz he couldn't play any longer without yawning a whole bunch, so I had to dump him back in his bed or whatever… But in just six human hours, I can go back!”

He rattled the dry husk of a Shinigami apple around in his hand for emphasis, levitating from his seat with all the passionate fidgeting.

“And I'll kick his ass again, this time as Pikachu! And then we can play that Zelda one he's got, and we can make my Mii…”

Sidoh had already turned to walk off, grumbling something about being responsible. Midora remained, her slimy little hands clasped at her pudgy chest.

“That's all really cool, Ryuk! And what about my notebook, when's he gonna start using it?”

...Uh-oh.

“_DAMNIT! _”

A plume of fine dust puffed up from the crater where the husky apple was spiked into the barren earth and drifted in the breezeless air. Ryuk grimaced at it with a surly harrumph. Midora chortled, her long tail swishing back and forth.

“You’re such a ditz! I bet you even forgot it back at his house, huh?”

Ryuk wilted, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“...Yeah… Man. I’ve really gotta learn some impulse control.”


	2. With Apologies to Monsieur Vigenére

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shitty koans, shittier yet ciphers! But pretty okay coping mechanisms.

“So, uh… Kid, we gotta talk.”  
  
Near raised a finger at Ryuk, an impish smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t reply verbally, but instead hummed along in his gentle little voice to the Mii Channel music. Small clicks and blips accompanied his humming as the grotesque Shinigami features began to take shape on a Mii’s innocent face.

“...That’s actually looking perfect, _ wow _… Okay, really, but Nate, I–”

“What color shirt do you want?”

Ryuk’s eyes widened, fingers caressing his chin.

“Uhhh… Black. _ No, wait–! _Red.”

_ Click. _

He would have whistled had his monstrous maw allowed it.

“Aw man… Yeah, that looks _ good _on me, damn… But uh– hey, listen! We’ve really gotta talk about something important here.”

Just to hammer the point home, he drifted upward and obscured most of the office’s central screens with his body, taking care to unfurl his wings for maximum attention grabbing.

Near set the Switch controller down on his knees, twirling a strand of hair on his finger.

“Of course, the murder notebook. I think you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve already been using it.”

“_ No way _, really–??” Ryuk gasped, cupping hands over his mouth. “Well shit, you’re catching on quicker than I thought… Assuming you’re telling the truth, that is.”

He made sure to cross his arms and bare his teeth. Couldn’t get _ too _excited without seeing some actual proof.

“It's over there on the desk if you'd like to take a look.”

“_ Suh-WEET _, let’s see what you've been up to!”

Grinning, the Shinigami flew over and pushed Near’s headphones and laptop aside, quivering with delight as he took the Death Note up into his hands, opened to the first page…!

“How do you like it?” Near called out from his floor spot beside the screens.

Instead of any human name, there was an ornate pop-up section made from the notebook’s own paper, like in a children’s story book. Instead of _ any _ writing whatsoever, the grinning visage of a cute little papercraft Ryuk peered out, holding in his tiny hands an even cuter little papercraft notebook that appeared to be open to the first page. The edges, the colors, _ everything _was meticulous and neat. And to top it all off, over Ryuk’s head hung a little thought bubble, devoid of words, but bearing a stylized portrait of the artist with his own eyes crossed out and his tongue hanging out.

“...You’re goddamn right about that, I’m absolutely killing you for this.”

The Shinigami was so withered that his voice bore no malice, just quiet exasperation.

“Go right ahead,” said the smug little shit, “we both know there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

“I just… _ Gahhhhh! _Who am I gonna have to kill to convince you?!”

Near rose and ambled over to Ryuk’s feet, Switch in tow. The gentle ambiance of Mii fabrication resumed as he sat back down in his trademark half-slump.

“When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”

Ryuk’s groan was loud and long and directed right at Near’s ear as he drifted down.

“Save the fuckin’ fortune cookie crap, would ya…? Freakin’ hell… Just– just _ please _ , give me something, give me _ anything _so I don’t have to hunt down your living relatives and stack their bodies in front of this shitty skyscraper…”

His spindly hand raked itself down his ghoulish flesh, as though he would wipe his own face off.

“…Knowing you, I’d probably _ still _ have to kill you afterward. There’s only so much I can… Y’know, _ invest _…? Aghhh…”

Near looked up from his game at last, gazing a foot to the left of Ryuk’s head.

“Are you asking for a lead, or some sort of clue?”

“_ Nhhhhhh I dunno, I dunnooooo… _”

He whined like a puppy dog as his body began to splay in thin air, some macabre parody of a discontented bather trying to find solace by drifting in a pool.

“What do you think I am getting out of our interactions, Ryuk, that causes me to continue to humor them? Do you think a donkey will heed if you give it the carrot, or the stick?”

Ryuk’s nostrils flared, mouth contorting like that of a muppet as he picked his brain.

“…Will you do what I want if I talk to you about unrelated crap or whatever…? Is that how it works? Like I gotta pay in?”

“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

“I _ dunno! _ First it’s some koan about nails, now–… Gah. _ Fine. _”

He plopped on the ground with an audible _ thump _at Near’s side, legs crossed and hand resting on his hip.

“…So. I was gonna ask anyway, but what’s with this recent game kick? I mean, you don’t look like the type–…”

His eyes narrowed as the words caught in his mouth. His head leaned over, slowly… peered down at Near and his long mane of hair.

“…Nah, actually you do. But I didn’t see you doing that before!”

The little man smiled up at him.

“Before I tell you, I must ask you the same. I know gods of death do not have video games in their native realm.”

Ryuk nodded.

“Hm… Funny story, actually. Light had a Nintendo GameCube in his room, yeah? Didn’t play it _ near _enough to get his money’s worth, but y’know, he was pretty single-minded. Anyway, back in the early days– I’m talkin’ four days after I gave him the notebook, right?” 

Near’s eyes followed the Shinigami’s animated posture as he gesticulated through the tale with a broad grin.

“He turned the thing on for me after I asked about it, put a game in, showed me how to hold the controller, and uh– damn! Shit, it was really fun! Not as fun as watching his face when he killed people, but pretty close, you know? Especially after a few tasty apples, just buzzin’ off that crisp flavor, kickin’ some ass at Mario Party… It was seriously cool. It was like… Like a new world, y’know? A little world, and not such a real one… But a lot cooler and more fun than where I live.”

Near sat quiet a few moments, teasing out a strand of hair on his finger and beginning to twirl it. His mouth was blank, but his eyes were wide… A certain odd glint in them.

“...That’s very interesting. What you have relayed sounds like the experience of an associate.”

“Huh. You were friends a with a gamer?”

Ryuk leaned in a bit. Near shook his head, a smirk forming.

“Not so. A friendship must be reciprocated in order to be called such. I admired Matt a lot, and he indulged me… But he had his loyalties, and I understood. Matt was fond of Nintendo. The last time I saw him alive, he was playing something on that purple Game Boy, the one that lacked a backlight…”

“Ah, the Advance! Now the Advance _ SP _ came out soon after, and they fixed the whole backlight thing, I read it in a catalogue.”

“Yes, that was the one.”

He nodded, more silence following. That odd hair tic aside… Damn, this kid was nothing if not inscrutable.

“...It would have been good if Matt lived to see the SP. I sincerely hope that he did.”

“Hm… Eh, he probably did.” Ryuk replied after a moment of thought. “If I remember that business right, he kicked it about when the DS was out. He probably played the hell outta that thing, too, I know _ I _would have if Light assed himself to buy one!”

This elicited a small chuckle from Near.

“It’s a shame your gaming was beholden to his whims… To uphold my end of the story exchange: I have taken up the hobby for two separate, but rather intertwined reasons. The first reason is that I get bored easily when my special interests wane.”

“_ Special interests? _” Ryuk interjected. “What makes ‘em so special…?”

“A special interest is a sort of fixation held by someone on the autism or ADHD spectrum. It’s one of the hallmarks of either disorder. Simply put, it’s a very specific and all-consuming passion for a neurodivergent person that helps them to relieve stress and experience joy in life. I happen to have several, and they tend to vacillate… I’m not sure if gaming is truly one of them, but I am enjoying it.”

“Huh…” Ryuk said, nodding. “That’s kinda specific… But I guess that makes sense. A lot of the other Shinigami have one or two things they like a lot, and not a lotta others… Does that mean they have that same kinda neuro-whatever thing going on?”

“It’s a possibility,” Near replied, “but not a certainty. Shinigami psychology may indeed be quite different from human psychology… And it would be presumptuous and potentially quite offensive to imply that autistic people have mental commonalities with harbingers of death and despair.”

“_ Ouch. _” Ryuk flicked his wrist playfully, eyes rolling.

“But regardless, I have another reason… I miss Matt a lot. I suppose playing Nintendo games is my way of remembering him, or trying to keep some part of him alive. I know he’d be elated at the Switch if he didn’t die… And Mello isn’t around to enjoy it for him either, and my successor didn’t know him personally as I did and is thereby not connected to his memory. So I’ve decided it’s up to me.”

“Playing Nintendo out of a sense of duty…” Ryuk mused aloud, scratching his back with the corner of the Death Note. “That’s kinda grim, but I can get it. I guess as long as you’re getting _ something _out of it, right?”

“Exactly. My heart is in it, and it’s my heart that bears his memory.”

Ryuk chuckled.

“Look at you, all poetic and junk! Didn’t know you had it in ya… I guess gaming might be a bit sentimental for me too.”

Near’s eyes widened, his gaze resting on Ryuk’s forehead.

“How so?”

“Hell, you know how Light entertained me… I killed him in the end, yeah, but he was my little pal for so long, and I had fun! I had lots of it just watching him, brainstorming with him, those rare little rounds of Smash Bros. I got to share with him when he was in a good mood… It hasn’t been the same, y’know? I don’t regret what I did at all, I mean… It was time, but–…”

“But you miss Light.”

“...Yeah. I do. And bullshitting around in a video game helps me remember those good times… And, heh! You know me, I _ live _for the good times.” 

“Quite the hedonist, yes.” Near chided, smirking.

“Anyway… You have indeed indulged me, Ryuk, and I do thank you. Now that you’ve ‘paid in’...”  
  
“Aw shit, are you _ really _gonna do it!? I thought you were just blowing smoke out your ass!”

Ryuk stood, looking like a hungry bear at a beehive.

“It sadly isn’t that simple… But you’ve won yourself a little token of hope, a little chance. Bring me a pen and some paper that isn’t the notebook and I will assemble your token.”

“...Are you just gonna draw a picture?”

The Shinigami’s eyes narrowed, posture already deflating.

“Bring me what I ask, you’ll see. You won’t regret it.”

Sighing, Ryuk reached up and grabbed the necessary writing utensils from the desk and passed them down to his impish young ward. Immediate little scritches and scratches of writing followed as he began to speak.

“At the orphanage where I was raised, we acquainted ourselves with one another in cryptic ways. The social exchange was dominated by odd little games and puzzles to test the mettle of our peers, and ourselves. Often this would lead to bitter rivalry... less often, camaraderie. Both made life bearable.”

Ryuk scoffed and squinted down at the letters on the page.

“Yeah, yeah, poor Oliver Twist wanting ‘some ‘ore’ with his sad widdle orphan fwiends, _ get to the point already! _”

“If you want me to be your accomplice, Ryuk, your new Kira– _ N-_Kira, that’s what my designation would be– you must prove yourself to me.”

He passed Ryuk the slip of paper, a neatly-handed collection of letters in the exact center of the page.

**K1 HINT - ‘MOST COMMON LANGUAGE’**

**K2 - NLOHKW**

**C - ZQHMDKLLYTWO**

“...Is this in Basque?”

“Look closer. As it stands, it’s unintelligible. But it can be deciphered if you put some thought into it, and maybe some research.”

“...GAH, you just want to torture me, don’t you!?”

Ryuk stamped his foot and clawed at his scalp, paper half-crumpled in his fist.

“Don’t sell yourself so short, think of the reward… You’ve been alive longer than I have, and you’re used to quiet solitude. I’d say you have an advantage over your average human, don’t you?”

A long pause, a chew of the lip… 

“...I mean, psh… I _ guess. _”

Near smiled about as wide and warm and Ryuk had ever seen, though his dead eyes still ruined it.

“You solve my cipher and present me with the correct answer, and I, in turn, will assume the title of N-Kira and entertain you with the systematic murder of all my enemies before my eventual demise at your hands. Does this sound fair to you?”

_ ...Shit. _ Even looking at that damn paper for a few seconds made Ryuk’s head spin. Did that twerp really expect him to solve all that nonsense? And what if he went back on his word? Sure, killing him as punishment was simple enough, more fish in the sea and all that jazz… But god damn, little Nate River was about the only shot he had at ever having fun again. This guy was the last living genius tied to that case, and he was just– _ the offer _…!

“…Fine, I’ll bite. Gimme that paper and a couple days of thinking–”

“I’ll know if you cheat and use the internet.”

“…Man,” Ryuk hissed under his breath, “there’s no winning. _ Fine _ . A few days of _ legitimate _thinking, I’ll have it solved, and you’ll be my new Kira. A deal’s a deal.”

With a flippant flop, he held out his ogreish Shinigami paw for a handshake, or something of the sort. _ Bah, what am I thinking, he doesn’t even make eye contact when you talk to him. He’s not gonna– _

A warm, soft weight on Ryuk’s clammy palm, weak little fingers wrapping around… And a stiff, perfunctory up-and-down movement, a real shake. 

And a smile. An even warmer one than before.

“Then… The race is on.”


	3. Narcotics Dealer Barbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evil robots don't need genders.

“ _ No _ , I told you, it's the other way around! Get some new freakin’ material, why don’t ya…”

Ryuk harrumphed, shaking his head in a “god, I pity you” sort of way at the elder Shinigami perched above him.

Zellogi stifled a chuckle.

“Yeah? Well riddle me this, Ryuk… Whose house are you spending your time at?”

“...His. But like– no, we don’t  _ have _ houses so that’s–”

“And who’s the one getting assigned activities?”

Ryuk winced, raising his hands.

“That’s not–  _ no _ , c’mon, it’s apples and oranges, it–”

“Who’s callin’ the shots in general, kid? You, or the boy?”

Zellogi’s nasty lipless mouth managed to bare even more tooth and gum than usual as Ryuk let loose the most pathetic, whiny sigh.

“…It’s–… Ghh, I’m just kinda  _ lettin’  _ him, y’know…?! Look,  _ I’m  _ the superior being here,  _ he’s  _ not, so it’s me who’s the master here! He’s  _ my _ pet monkey and that’s that.”

He snorted, crossing his arms and pivoting on his feet to turn his back to Zellogi.

“Spin it however you wish, fishface, but here’s my honest-to-god opinion: the human’s taking you for a ride. You’re an overeager little sucker, and he can smell it a mile away.”

Zellogi stepped back into Ryuk’s view, squinting his empty eyes down at the half-crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“I’ll bet you ten years this is just some nonsense he made up on the spot, and he’s gonna say you got it wrong no matter what bullshit you come up with from it… So I guess to get back to your question, I ain’t even gonna try to solve it for ya.”

Ryuk growled, his grin murderous.

“You really think so? Then why’d he bother giving me all that noise about how puzzle-solving was a deep show of honor and respect in his fuckin’ mystery kid orphanage, huh?”

The other Shinigami picked at his teeth with his hook-hand, posture lax and flippant.

“‘Cuz you’re a sentimental goddamn sap. Again, I’m tellin’ you, he can smell it all over ya! You’re making this rigamarole way too easy for him.” 

He smoothed the paper against his knee before poking it back toward Ryuk.

“He was literally bred to play mind-games with other people, and your first mistake was thinking you’re somehow different. Good luck on this fool’s errand, but I ain't gonna partake on account of not bein’ a fool.”

“…You’re not even gonna try, like, a little…?”

Zellogi sighed, biting his hook.

“Already told you, it’s horseshit. Nothing will convince me otherwise. Either go and bother the King for help or off that little whelp already and be done with it.”

Ryuk gawped and clutched the paper to his chest.

“No way I’m asking the  _ King _ ! I’m not suicidal!”

Zellogi spread his wings and turned away, sparing a final look over his shoulder.

“Then kill Nate River… And look. I never liked you much, but it’s mighty disturbing to see you so riled up over a human. He’s gotten under your skin, Ryuk… It ain’t right.”

“Psh,  _ whatever _ … You'll be eating those words once I have a new Kira. You'll see!”

Zellogi took off without a word, dust swirling in his wake as he drifted off into the dead gray sky.

“…And my face doesn't look like a fish!” Ryuk hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth.

But it was too late, he was already far out of earshot.

* * *

_ Clatter clatter… rustle rustle CLINK–… rustlerustlerustler– _

_ “Ryuk?” _

“…”

_ “Ryuk, are you going through my personal effects?” _

“…”

_ “Do you care to explain why?” _

“…”

_ ...scritchascritchascritchascr– _

_ “Come in here. You’re not as sneaky as you think.” _

“…Gah.”

Jig throughly up, the Shinigami pushed the desk drawer closed and skulked out of the office, notebook tucked under his arm. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks as the light from the end of the hall hit them.

“Even if I was asleep,” said Near, sat against a pillow tucked in front of the headboard, “I would still have heard you. A break-in is supposed to be quiet.”

“I  _ was  _ quiet though! You’re just–… The hell are you doing up after midnight?”

“It’s an inspiration night tonight, a little welcome hypomania.”

He hadn’t looked up once, his gaze instead fixed on something in his hands… A little lump of clay.

“That already sounds super weird. And  _ looks  _ super weird! Are you just trying to skeeve me out so I’ll leave you alone?”

Near lifted the clay above his chest, wearing a fond sort of smile, almost fatherly.   


“Art is more important than any measure of skeeving.”

Ryuk chuckled, sauntering over and taking a seat in an orthopedic desk chair a few feet from the bed.

“So you’re an artist now too? On top of being like  _ the  _ genius detective? God, that’s funny! You’re like, uhhh…”

He put a finger to his chin, brow furrowed despite the bemused smirk.

“...Hell, what’s the freakin’ name of that toy doll…? The cute girl with the golden hair and all the different jobs…?”

“That would be Barbie.”

Ryuk beamed.

“Yeah! You’re like Barbie, young and pretty and just a freakin’ whole buncha jobs…”

“ _ Pretty _ ?”

This elicited a surprised little giggle from the human and sort of an odd wincing smirk.

“I mean  _ c’mon _ , the hair and everything! You're just shooting for that look.”

He affected a southern accent as he gave a dismissive wave of the wrist.

“Oh Mister Ryuk sir, you flatter me so… I fear I shall catch the vapors from all of this excitement.”

“Kehehehehehahahaa!” Ryuk laughed. “You’re so funny when you’re tryin’ to be funny… So okay, what’s the art project for tonight?”

“Sofubi.”

“Sofu- _ who? _ ”

“Sofubi: a portmanteau of Japanese origin, standing for  _ soft vinyl _ . It most commonly refers to a certain genre of collectible toys designed by artists such as myself.”

The Shinigami kicked up his feet on the bedside, leaning back in the chair.

“Hm… Yeah, I think I've seen those, actually! I mean aside from yours, sometimes I'll kill a geek and get to look at his little collection… Uh, and these are the ones without the huge boobies, right?”

“Most commonly monsters, robots, fantastical creatures inspired by  _ tokusatsu _ , yes. The buxom figurines are typically a whole separate genre… though I'm sure there's overlap.”

Ryuk’s eyes widened.

“...Man. Now you've got me wondering what a monster with enormous tatas would look like! Can you make one of those?”

Near stifled a giggle, shaking his head.

“Not this time, but I'll file that prompt away for later. I already have a creature in mind, and it will be more masculine.”

“See, but that's just the problem with creatures, too masculine! Where's the babes?”

The boy smirked, making a knobbly protuberance in the clay.

“Judging by your fixation on sculpted plastic breasts, creatures are absolutely too masculine.”

“Yeah,  _ yeah _ … So is  _ that  _ the vinyl, then? It’s super moldable.”

“No,” he replied, holding up a torn plastic wrapper bearing the name  _ FIMO _ , “it’s this stuff, a sort of clay. This will be a template that I’ll send to the factory so the mold can be cast.”

“So there’s a whole  _ factory  _ involved? Sounds like you’ve got your own little empire going on!”

“I'm afraid my brand is too obscure to be so called, though I appreciate the sentiment… I have a fairly loyal following, though. There's actually going to be a sofubi exhibition coming up at the beginning of next month, and a lot of my clientele has expressed excitement at the prospect of meeting me.”

Ryuk gawped, a surprised squawk jumping from his throat.

“So you're gonna actually go out?! Like– as in  _ leaving the building _ …?”

A small smirk, the pale little hand reaching over to the bedside table.

“Yes. But not as myself.” 

He snatched up a smartphone, doing a few swipes and taps before he turned the screen to where Ryuk could see. 

On it was a photograph of a lone figure, clad in a white coat and silver metallic pants. It sat in a motorized wheelchair with one knee tucked against the chest, an oversized CRT computer monitor where its head should have been.

“Dr. PharmaCom, the world’s only computer with a PhD in medicine.”

Ryuk clasped his hands, erupting in chortles.

“No way, that's  _ really _ you?! Holy shit…”

Near leant forward, a startling note of passion in his still, small voice.

“It was invented to be a brilliant medical doctor, but became evil after watching many films about evil AI. A team of masked heroes challenged it, but PharmaCom defeated them all by feeding them special pills that transformed them into horrible giant monsters. Now it rules the world unopposed, with the beasts it created doing its dark bidding… and also being very collectible and fun to look at.”

“Oh my  _ god  _ I love it! But uhhh… Even with the fursuit– or, well, robo-suit, don’t you get nervous in public with all those people and noises…?”

“I absolutely do, but it's important enough of a mission that I've found a work-around.”

He raised a finger, eyes not quite shut, but half-lidded and thoughtful.

“When there is a con and I must be seen, I will do Jell-O shots until I'm piss-drunk. It usually only takes three or four because I'm not very large. Once I'm drunk, though, I have half a Vicodin, suit up and phone this 7 foot tall man named Dmitri. He and I have a good arrangement to where I pay him a handsome sum to chauffeur me to the event and push my chair around, while also costumed as Dr. PharmaCom’s assistant, GachaCom.”

“What the  _ fuuuuuuuck _ , ahahahahahahaaaa–!”

Ryuk wheezed with laughter, clutching his abdomen and kicking his feet, nearly toppling the chair with his paroxysms.

“Dmitri doesn't speak very much English or Japanese, but it's okay because he's very animated in his gestures. It all works out very well, for PharmaCom as I've conceptualized it is also piss-drunk at all times.”

After some mirthful hooting and howling, Ryuk finally managed to regain enough composure to speak again. He wiped a little tear of black ichor from his eye, still wheezing.

“Ohhhh my  _ god _ … and you're not bullshitting about this…?”

“Who would lie, Ryuk, about something so specific and utterly damning, so humiliatingly absurd? You are a stranger on a train, and I will tell you my secret so I will not carry it alone to the grave.”

“You are a  _ freak _ , sir!”

Ryuk was grinning ear to ear.

“Man, I'm sorry I ever thought you were boring, you've just got this–…  _ God damn!  _ It’s that human magic.”

Near set the fully-molded creation down at his feet, with cupped hands cradling it.

“We all must indulge our beast-nature somehow. I suppose it beats doing drugs at parties or attending orgies.”

Using his legs as leverage, Ryuk pulled his chair closer to the bed, leaning down to study the figurine. Its large head dominated a comparatively puny body, stumpy limbs contorted in a sort of cartoonish rictus. Atop the head sat two cute little lapine ears, overlooking a demented, snarling face with a mouth full of pointy teeth and great bulging eyes.

“So this monster here, it’s some kinda evil bunny?”

Near nodded.

“That's right, ‘BLOODMOON LUCIFELL’. He's a murderous rabbit who thinks he's an ancient wolf god and enjoys terrorizing the populace with massive killing sprees. He also has a lot of mutant fleas, all of whom are deeply infatuated with him. He likes crime.”

Ryuk snickered, a hand covering his smirk.

“Subtle, aren't we?”

“If you think BLOODMOON is unsubtle,” Near replied as he twirled his hair, “then you should see ‘MERODONICUS, TYRANT CHOCOLATIER’ or ‘LOVELY SQUID IDOL-CHAN IKA-IKA’.”

“Hey, guess you gotta get your material from somewhere… Anyways, I’d better bounce before I get too distracted. Uh– cuz I'm actually  _ really  _ far ahead with the cryptography stuff, super close to a breakthrough. The pieces are all coming together and uhhhh… I think it'll be done soon! Very very soon.”

Near grinned back at Ryuk’s sheepish, yet charming smile.

“I'm sure you will. Before you leave, however, I have something for you.”

“…Eh, really…??”

He pointed to a paper sack atop his dresser. Ryuk reached in and felt that familiar smoothness in his hand. His face came alight.

“ _ APPLES _ , oh my god…! Juicy ones, too, nice ‘n big ‘n fat ‘n–…”

His face dropped as a sudden quietness came over him. His head quirked to the side.

“Now wait a minute… Did you just become my narcotics dealer?”

Near looked down at his knee, sighing with a smile.

“You have no need for one. You could easily go to any orchard, there's nothing at all stopping you.”

“Hah, fair enough.”

Ryuk grinned as he made for the door, giving a little wave with the hand not laden by the sack.

“Thanks for the drugs, Dr. PharmaCom. I'll be back soon, and you'd best believe I'll have that fucker solved when I am!”

“Farewell, Ryuk.”

Near waved back, scooping the sculpted rabbit into his hands again and resuming his work.

* * *

“…”

The Shinigami sat perched at the end of the Brooklyn Bridge, staring as the lights blurred beneath him with the passage of traffic. His perpetual grin had faltered some, eyes creeping back up to his hands.

Unsolved cipher paper in one… Open notebook in the other. In the center of the notebook page, printed in that ages-old gothic hand… 

**NA**

“…”

Ryuk bit his lip and folded the cipher, tucking it under the next page of the notebook and grabbing up his pen. After a pregnant few seconds of silent reflection, he began to write again.

**NARKOTICS DEALER BARBY**

A private little chuckle over the din of the city, the grin broadening back.

With a flick of his wrist, he tore the page off and let it drift into the wind. He shut the book, spread his wings and took off into the clear black sky.


	4. Suspenseful Hair-Braiding Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fraternization" – the REAL F-Word.

“...Ah. A bit less tight than that, please. The tension on my scalp is a bit much.”

“Mhm.”

Lidner gave an affirmative nod as she slackened the locks in her hand. The brush she held in her other hand made gentle strokes, up and down.

“…Thank you again for doing this. I know it isn’t what you signed on for…”

She chuckled, shaking her head.

“Hey, I offered. You have to manage it somehow, yeah? And Mom didn’t teach me how to do a French braid just so I’d go and forget as soon as I got a bob.”

A small smile crept across Near’s face.

“Fair enough. I'm just pleased you were able to get those tangles out so painlessly.”

“Now I can't rightly credit  _ this  _ skill to Mom,” Lidner replied, “since it was my sister’s hair that gave her the most trouble. Mine’s similar to hers, sort of thin, right? But Katie’s is a lot more like yours, with that slight wave in it, and it'd gnarl up if you so much as looked at it funny. Mom would always call her ‘Sixty Minutes’.”

Near lifted his head.

“...An eccentric nickname. Explain.”

She grinned, setting the brush down at her feet.

“It was because when her tangly hair got brushed, Katie was an ‘ow’-er. Get it?”

“...Ah! Heh… That's quite clever, actually.”

“I thought so too… So I learned how to brush Katie’s hair without pulling it after Mom’s patience ran out. It's tricky, but once you get it down, there's no forgetting it. Hah… Katie used to joke that I should have studied cosmetology instead of criminal justice.”

Near reached a hand up to brush the side of his hair, now somewhat taught as the braids slowly formed. He pushed his knee into his chest.

“…How is she, lately? Katie, I mean.”

“Oh!”

Her face lit up as she leant forward, not making direct eye contact, but facing Near.

“She's doing very well. I had lunch with her on Wednesday, actually, she looks and sounds a lot better. She's started dating again, finally… Says the kids are doing great, too, Jeremy’s already starting school, Elaine’s going into junior high…”

The smile faded and she sighed.

“...It's funny, you know. I kept thinking that it’d all be mended and perfect after we caught Kira… that solving the case would give them closure, help her sleep at night… Turns out it’d take years of therapy before we could hope for that. God…”

A hand reached toward her shoulder, making her flinch. Near’s gaze was almost meeting hers, his eyes solemn and apologetic.

“You've helped her more than you know, Halle. Don't discount that.”

“…I–…”

Halle sighed again, giving a half-nod.

“…I know. My head knows it, anyway, it's just–… it feels different than that, a lot of the time.”

“…I understand completely.”

Near leant back and gently rested his hand on her shoulder. His own shoulders relaxed as Halle formed another braid.

“The mind fixates on the hypotheticals of the past. ‘I could have done more’, ‘I should have said this then’, ‘should not have done that', ‘should have waited longer before taking this course of action’… But the past is irrevocable, Halle. And the hypotheticals are a trap which only serves to cause us psychic agony. Enticing as it seems, we cannot allow ourselves to fall into this trap. It does ourselves and those we care about no good at all.”

“…”

Halle sat silent a moment, Near’s half-braided hair in her hand. A small, sad smile formed.

“You're wiser than anyone gives you credit for, L.”

Near chuckled.

“No, my therapist and my rabbi are wise. I'm only good at parroting their wisdom when it seems applicable.”

“Psh, still! That's–… It's been weighing on my mind for a while. I needed to hear that. Thank you, really…”

He looked down, a certain inscrutable glint in his eyes.

“It's the least I can do to atone for my sins… There was something else you wished to discuss, wasn't there…?”

“…Yes, uh–…”

A sharp little inhale, the braid dropping and hanging as the hands that formed it steeple in front of her mouth.

“…L, I really need to preface this: I don't want to insult your intelligence or your–… ability to keep us safe.”

Near turned to look over his shoulder, wearing a small frown.

“…Halle. I am open to all concerns you might have. If I've ever made you feel otherwise, I am truly sorry… you're intelligent in your own right. You know innumerable things that I do not, and I don't wish for my own status– in a hyper-specialized area, I should add –intimidate you or anyone else here into silence when there are valid concerns.”

Halle swallowed, inhaling through her nose.

“…Thank you.”

L grunted a bit as he pivoted around to face Lidner, gaze fixed on her chin.

“Speaking as a human being… not as your employer… I am  _ nothing  _ without you and Rester and Gevanni. I am  _ worse  _ than nothing. Please don't mince words when you speak of these concerns, give it to me straight. I owe that much to you for the exemplary service I have received over the years… for–…”

He gestured to the braid hanging between his shoulders, giving a little half-whimpered sigh as his fingers reached up to caress it. His mouth smiled, but his eyes seemed almost pained, knee pressing harder into his chest.

“...for this. For things like this. For everything in general, Halle. Please speak openly.”

For once it was Lidner who couldn't hold the gaze. Her eyes darted to the side as she drew in yet another fretful breath, bit her lip at her boss’s surprising display of emotion…

“…The Shinigami, L. I understand you've made some sort of… pact or gamble with him. I saw the apples you left this morning– I think a few have been eaten by now. Is he… in the building right now…?”

Near drew in a breath, fingers squeezing the folds of braided hair.

“…Yes. Last I saw him, he was in my bedroom trying to solve the cipher.”

Lidner drew in her arms and nodded, brow furrowed.

“…Can you tell me what happens if he manages to complete your cipher?”

A few seconds’ silence, his eyes narrowing.

“…I am so sorry, Lidner… but I'm afraid I am not at liberty to discuss those details with you at this juncture.”

She nodded, only the downward quirk of the corner of her mouth betraying any negative emotional response.

“…I understand. And I know this is–… I know the Shinigami’s actions are out of your hands and he will–… he’ll do what he pleases regardless, but–”

“Do you feel as though you're in danger?”

For about half a second, his eyes met hers, solemn, gray…

“…I do worry, L… Again, I trust you, but…”

He nodded as she trailed off, fingers wrapping around the hair at the end of his braid.

“I will do all I can to mitigate the danger you may potentially face. I cannot discuss details, but I already have contingencies in mind. Every bit of leverage I have will be used to maintain your safety and that of your fellow task force members.”

“…Thank you, L,” she replied, “I really do appreciate it, but my main concern is different… Are  _ you  _ in danger?”

He wound the strand of hair around his finger, drawing in a long breath.

“I am about as safe as anyone in my position could be. Probably cold comfort–”

“It  _ is _ .”

Her fist had balled up, probably from sheer stress rather than any malice. After all, her eyes looked so pained…

“…Sorry, it’s just–… I don’t want to lose you, Nate. I know we’re supposed to be just associates–  _ Christ _ , I’ve heard it forward and back since I joined the force about fraternization, about letting feelings get in the way of business but–…”

Halle’s fingers pressed into her left temple as she sucked in a bitter breath. Near just sat there, half-hugging his own knee as though he could hide that it pained him too.

“…Go on…”

“…You’re like my kid brother now. You– you’re my superior, of course, but I just–… I didn’t mean to, I swear to God, I just–… You’re–…”

She winced, biting her lip.

“…I care about you a whole lot. As a person, I mean. I didn’t always, I tried to keep things cordial and distant… And I know your–…  _ circumstances _ are still unchanged and it’s inevitable one way or another… But God damn it, Nate, I’m  _ not _ ready to bury you. Not so soon. You’ve become family.  _ Young _ family. I don't want to… lose that…”

“…Halle.  _ Hey _ …”

His voice was softer even than its gentle default. His sleeve brushed her knee as she reached up to wipe the few tears she couldn’t hold back. A hand slipped into the pocket of his shirt, then back out, and pressed something into Halle’s left palm.

“…I’m sorry this is so painful for you. Please, as much as you are able… try not to worry about me. I cannot go into detail… and I cannot assure you much…”

Halle sniffled a bit, nodding. She gazed to the side, still dabbing away nascent tears and sticking her left hand into her coat-pocket.

“…But all will be well. That much I do know. And you will still be my esteemed and respected colleague, who likewise, I care about a great deal. That will always be so, Halle.”

A small smile crept up, his eyes for once almost right for it. Evidently, she could not help but return the smile.

“…Alright. Thanks… Just do the best you can to look out for yourself, alright? That's all I ask…”

“…I will try. For you, I will try.”

That smile of hers broadened as she stood and reached a hand toward his shoulder, her movements tentative. His half-nod was answered by a gentle squeeze to his left shoulder, which elicited a small sigh and the leaning of his head into her forearm.

“…I know you have to go now,” he said, “but I’m curious: how do I look with the braid?”

She grinned.

“Like a warrior prince about to ride into battle.”

The boy chuckled as the elder human made for the door.

“I am far from a warrior, but I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you again, Halle… Thank you for everything.”

Halle Bullock nodded and gave a smooth little perfunctory wave before departing down the hallway, her name and lifespan trailing behind her head. She did not notice the extra set of eyes on her, as few do. It was doubtful if even Near noticed… Though it wouldn’t come as a surprise if he did and simply elected to ignore.

Ryuk sat cross-legged on the ceiling with a large honeycrisp apple in his maw. Several sheets of paper were taped beside him, some corners left to flap in the light breeze of the air conditioning. On them were great tables of segments of letters, some scrawled out, but others bearing circled portions in their midsections. The progress was slow, but tantalizingly tangible.

He peered back at the partially-completed cipher in his hand as the woman finally left his sight, then looked to Near. A stylish new hairdo indeed, but gone was that smug little lift of the shoulder, gone was the knowing half-smirk of confidence. He had pulled back into himself like a frightened little snail. Perhaps even he could sense the tables were about to turn…?

“Oh, the suspense!”   
Is what Ryuk would have said if his mouth wasn’t full of apple. Instead, he just crunched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sloppy as hell to have this be the only chapter with notes, I kno... Some creative borrowings I have done must be mentioned, however.
> 
> Firstly, the concept of Near having his hair braided was put in my head by some lovely art Tumblr user @cloverinblue made shortly after the oneshot came out. The "sixty minutes" anecdote was actually borrowed from a friend's personal experience (u kno who u are, love u!!! ty for the inspo), and the headcanon about Near being Jewish is from Tumblr user @whocalledhimannux/@greenandhazy.
> 
> ty to all I mentioned for the wonderful inspiration, pardon my abundant borrowings from you!
> 
> also sorry if the pacing is abrupt or assy here... This was a weird one developmentally!


	5. Pretty Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Western yes-binary hegemony foiled again by Barbie's magic.

“...Ngh… _ no _ … _ NO _…”

Eyes wide, pupils dilated, hands trembling more and more intensely with each second, lip curled in anger and horror. 

The sting of defeat crept close, more than he could bear. Death was imminent.

“..._ NO–! _”

With a final shriek of despair, he threw the hunk of plastic in his hands and fell face-first onto the ground, groaning and biting his lip.

_ “Please do not break my Switch.” _ Called a voice from down the hall.

Ryuk sighed and scraped his face off the floor.

“Relax, would ya? It's just the stupid GameCube controller, I'm not dumb enough to throw the whole console. _ God _, though, I'm gettin’ fed up…”

_ “Still stuck on Flowey?” _

He rolled his eyes, though he knew Near couldn't see him from here.

“Gee, how _ ever _ did you guess…? This is a _ stupid _boss fight and I dunno how anybody is supposed to beat it and I hate Toby Fox and I'm gonna kill him tonight.”

_ “Sounds like you're lacking in determination, Ryuk.” _

Even from a distance, the mocking little lilt in that damned boy’s otherwise monotone voice was so irksome.

“Well what the hell are you expecting? It's this or that fuckin’ cipher, and one’s always there waiting to piss me off when I hit a wall with the other… Guh!”

_ “What if you did neither for a while?” _

His eyes narrowed, a spindly pointer finger caressing his chin.

“…I mean I _ guess! _Ugh, you make it sound like it’s easy or something.”

Ryuk scratched his butt as he tromped down the hall, eyes and ears keen for whatever zany activity that weird boy was up to next. 

As he stepped into the bedroom, though, he was greeted by a quiet scene: Near, bathed in the pale light from his dimmed desklamp, seated in that orthopedic chair in his usual knee-to-chest slump. In his hand was a weird little pouch– almost looked like those Capri Suns or whatever came in kids’ lunches, but with a plastic spout instead of a straw. _ On _his hand… damn, his nails were painted, cute shade of robin’s egg blue. 

But most important, on the _ desk _ was an absolute _ beaut _ of an apple, shiny and dappled with an unusually earthy color, standing at the forefront of a whole mountainous apple pile. It was also a little wider around than tall, perhaps a bit on the lumpy side... Maybe a human consumer in a grocery store would turn their nose up at it in favor of some picture-perfect red delicious and call it ugly, but Ryuk… Oh baby, he knew better. Swoop, munch, crunchacrunchacrunch and _ MMMM god DAMN _ his mouth had never had more juicy sweetness within…! Mother of _ shit _it was hands-down the best apple he’d ever eaten.

Near smiled up at his cacophonous enjoyment of the delicate fruit, twirling a strand of hair on his finger.

“I trust you’re fond of that one… Knobbed russet, extremely rare in modern day, purchased from a conservationist orchard for a handsome sum.”

“Mnnnufff, _ MMMMMMM _…” Was all Ryuk could manage as his gob was filled with heavenly delights.

His grin broadened as he raised the pouch, the lacquer on his nails shining.

“And I have my own to enjoy with you, Ryuk. Cheers.”

Ryuk couldn’t help but sigh in deep contentment as he swallowed the remainder of the wonderful fruit.

“That’s not an apple, ya dingus.”

“Look again,” said Near, holding the pouch up to the Shinigami’s face, “it’s apple_ sauce _. A bit of cinnamon mixed in, just as I like it.”

Ryuk’s eyes narrowed in contemplation.

“Hm… I dunno if that counts! You should try one of those lumpy ones instead. There’s really no comparison.”

Near giggled and looked down, pouch squishing in his grip.

“I would, but I can’t stand it when I get apple fragments between my teeth. It will give me an actual panic attack when that happens, and it’s hard to floss when the alarm bells in my mind are sounding… So I content myself with this stuff.”

With a sheepish smirk, he raised the pouch to his lips and downed a little squeeze of the appley mush.

“Ahhh, okay, I guess that’s fair. At least you get to enjoy them somehow… So what’s with the nails?”

Near raised his hand in his usual rigid, yet smooth motion, smiling.

“I just felt like painting them. Painted some of my sofubi and gunpla earlier and didn’t feel like stopping, even after I was through all of them.”

He then reached over to his side, behind the succulent pile of apples, and batted a bottle of candy-red nail polish to the front of the desk.

“Would Mr. Shinigami like to partake?”

“…_ Me _, get my nails painted?”

Ryuk chuckled, though his eyes lingered on that pretty red bottle. His spidery paw snagged up another apple as he mulled it over.

“…Ahhh, why the hell not! I’m gonna get it all over myself, though, and maybe on the desk.”

“I can paint them for you if you’d prefer.” Said Near, taking the bottle up in his hand. “I’ve a knack for slow-paced detail work.”

“Pfff, _ ya don’t say _. Knock yerself out, kid.”

Popping the apple into his mouth, he laid his hands out on the desk. A pang of deep and abiding regret welled up in his chest as Near laid a palm on the back of his fidgety knuckles and said “Hold still for me. This will take a while.”

He sighed with a bitter smirk. 

“You’re gonna have to keep my head busy, little dude. Me and staying still don’t exactly get along, ya know?”

Already, the light pressure danced along the back of his thumbnail as the brush spread the shining lacquer thin.

“What topic of discussion would best sate your base and bestial urges?”

“How about–…?”

Ryuk had to stop himself from drumming his fingers as he started thinking.

“…How about you tell me why only girl humans ever do nail-painting?”

Near smiled down, almost loving.

“God only knows.”

“I mean maybe he did, but you killed him!”

A small, soft guffaw.

“_ You _killed him.”

“Well you started it, dummy! Though I guess that Matsuda guy finished it.”

“That was still you.”

Ryuk lifted up his leg and waved his _ foot _dismissively so as not to interrupt the delicate operation with his nails. Near’s eyes only widened a little. Philistine…

“As _ if! _He was gonna die anyway, I only really hit the fast-forward button on that whole thing.”

“An ambulance could have been called, he could have been taken to the hospital, blood could have been transfused… I could go on.”  
  
“Yeah, don’t… _ Really _ though, tell me why pretty nails is a girl thing! Just gimme your best guess if you don’t know.”

Near painted in silence for a second or two before responding.

“…It’s likely Western. Hegemony has made it the prescription for the rest of the world, but non-Western civilizations had painted nails long before the heyday of the French manicure, and I would bet money it was done regardless of gender. A French woman of status does something, all her tittering socialite friends follow suit and suddenly it’s an innately female thing that, if done by anyone else, makes them a sicko pervert or a failed man.”

Ryuk’s nose crinkled and his lip curled as a creaky “bwuhhh” of vague disgust emanated from his throat.

“_ Yikes _ , I’m not either of those things! Humans are _ so _judgmental these days…”

“I agree,” Near replied as he worked his way to the Shinigami’s long pinky talon, “but the damage is done. All beauty is commodified and suited only for single-gender consumption.”

“Well sucks to that, a guy’s gotta feel pretty sometimes! Uh–”

His leg contorted with sickening crackle as his big toe arched toward his ear, pointing at the silvery bauble dangling from it.

“That’s why I got this earring, right? It’s real pretty, heart-shaped… Makes me think of love ‘n nice feelings. Anyone who says I’m a sicko for wanting to wear something like that just ‘cuz I’m a guy… I think they have problems, really.”

Near did not pause, but spent almost the entirety of Ryuk’s left thumb silent, his mouth small and frowning. One of those little thoughtful kid frowns, and of course his eyes were full of thoughtful too, though when weren’t they…?

“…What makes you male, Ryuk?”

“Uh…”

Ryuk got his foot all the way up and scratched his scalp with his toes, gaze drifting the ceiling.

“…Geez, putting me on the spot here, are we?”

Near’s frown eased, but his eyes gained a sad sort of glint.

“My apologies to you if that’s too personal. You can decline to answer if you wish.”

“Nahhhh, you’re good, it’s just–… It’s hard to quantify, right? That’s something a Shinigami just kinda… decides, y’know? Or well– Hm…”

The human dabbed at Ryuk’s cuticle with a small wad of tissue, seeping up an errant glob of red.

“…A Shinigami comes to be… And uh, well everyone calls them “he”, right? It’s like when you see a puppy dog or whatever run up and you go ‘oh who’s a good boy?’ without like–… lookin’. I mean, uhm– for us, there’s nowhere to look, really! It’s bare between the legs, shit knows it’d be _ really _weird if it wasn’t, but… Yeah. Male until presumed otherwise, y’know…?”

“…And nobody presumed you female?”

“…Nah. It didn’t, uh… I dunno, I never really _ felt _like a ‘she’, ‘he’ feels more comfy. I’d see the human men doing their thing and go ‘oh yeah, that seems about like how I am’!”

Near’s movements slowed as he dipped the brush in the bottle again. His eyes were wide, but refused to move from the desk’s surface.

“…But there are Shinigami who presumably relate to human women?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Really, there’s no telling just by _ looking _at one of us– hell, I knew one who looked a lot like me, except paler– but she said when I met her that she was a female, and… damn, who could argue? That’s what felt most right for her, that’s what she was. And there’s about as many like her as there are like me.”

A long silence. Ryuk felt the flow of liquid still itself at the end of his left pinky nail. Near lifted the brush for a final time and capped it back onto the bottle. The desktop still held his gaze.

“…How freeing it must be,” he said at last, a murmur, “to decide that for yourself.”

“…Uh, how do you mean? Do you feel like… they made the wrong call with you?”

“…No. Not necessarily. Male is not incorrect.”

“But you’re pretty…” Ryuk mused, his tone cautious and tentative, “And small. You don’t feel like you’re supposed to be a girl? Heh, maybe like Barbie, even…?”

Another, shorter silence.

“…No. I have had people call me ‘ma’am’ over the phone before. It’s a bit amusing… but it doesn’t really fit either…”

“But you say ‘either’, like being a guy also doesn’t fit… Are you saying, then, you don’t really feel like a girl _ or _ a guy? Uh, and is that a _ thing _ …? I mean it probably is, but–…”

Near sighed, drawing into himself and resting his cutely-painted hand on his knee.

“Nonbinary identities are indeed ‘a thing’. They have been for millenia… but again, Western hegemony. I’m sure you’ve killed some humans who didn’t consider themself a man or a woman.”

Ryuk scratched his head again, gnawing his lip in half-troubled thought.

“…You’re right, I probably have. Time just kinda–… muddles together, y’know? I don’t really think about the past a lot, but when you’re always living in the present, well…”

He shrugged, foot finally taking its rightful place back underneath the rest of him. 

“…I digress. And anyway, if you feel uncomfortable being a ‘yes-binary’ or whatever, then you should just go with what you feel is right instead. Besides, your robo-doctor persona doesn’t got a gender either, and it’s basically you! Anything else seems kinda fake and scammy, like that whole beauty deal.”

After what seemed like a permanent position, Near’s head lifted at last, eyes gazing a few inches to the right of Ryuk’s head. They were muted, but with that intense little glint they tended to have when they got anywhere near anyone’s actual face.

“…Is it not too late for that, Ryuk? I’m twenty-eight… I came to Wammy’s House a male, presented myself to my peers as such… to _ L _as such…”

His hand darted into the pocket of his white button-down, pale-blue pointer nail soon obscured by an ugly, faded lump of bug-eyed, black-locked rubber.

“…L is male. L in his deathless death remains male through me. L drew his last breath on November 5th, 2004 with two male heirs in his mind’s eye, a direct continuity of himself through willing young male vessels. If I changed my mind now… decided my connection to maleness wasn’t what I was told it was…”

The finger puppet poked about an inch from Ryuk’s face, its wearer almost wincing beneath the weight of his own thoughts.

“…Would I not be dishonest to L and his legacy, Shinigami…?”

“…”

Ryuk drew in a breath that he meant to be one of those that precedes an authoritative statement. It ended up about three seconds too long for that and instead looked like more of a gulp. Oops…

“…Look, kid, I know you care a lot about L… but he’s dead! He’s been dead for fifteen years… _ fifteen _years! That’s– there’s kids going to school who have been crawlin’ around longer than your old man’s been dead, y’know?”

Near’s wince grew more intense upon hearing these words, a stiff little breath drawn in and a finger reaching up to twirl a strand of his hair. _ Aw shit, way to make it worse, genius… _

“…Look, though, what I’m saying is that you shouldn’t worry so much what L would think. He was kind of a jerk anyway, and– ahhh, I don’t wanna make you feel any worse… Even then, I think _ he’d _want you to not pretend like you’re something you’re actually not for his sake, right? It’s not conducive to being a good secret detective guy if your true self’s all in whack or– or some shit like that. That’s what I think he’d tell ya, Near…”

Near kept twirling that hair of his, eyes drifting between the fuck-ugly rubber puppet on his finger and the fuck-uglier death monster at his side. At long last, that uncomfortable wince faded to his usual blank serenity.

“…I think you are right, Ryuk… And I thank you. This has been weighing on my mind for a while, if latently… Verbalizing it helps. I will consider your counsel. In the meantime…”

He smiled, lowering his head to Ryuk’s hands.

“…You did a very good job staying still. Your nails ought be dry by now.”

“Aw _ sweet _, look at ‘em…!”

Ryuk grinned ear to ear as he admired his long talons, now glistening as red as a ripe apple in autumn.

“You really outdid yourself, ma–… uh, I mean… Buddy!”

“‘Buddy’…”

Something odd came over that little smile, almost warm…

“…I’m not sure a Shinigami and a human can truly be friends… but I do like how that sounds. You can still call me ‘he’ or ‘man’ or ‘dude’ as you please, but you may _ gladly _ call me ‘buddy’.”

“Awww geez, don’t get all sappy with me now…”

Ryuk giggled, nudging the human with his shoulder. Near just smiled and reached for another of those apples, dropping it in Ryuk’s glamorously-decorated hand and eliciting an even wider grin from the Shinigami.

“You’ll be needing this, because it’s time to get back to your cipher again.”

Like melting butter, the grin drooped. Those hungry eyes narrowed, and yet another cranky sigh welled up.

“Yeah… _ damn it… _”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy uh, baby NB out here, still not sure of a lot of things but nonetheless kind of writing my own nascent experiences into this chapter... Pretty please let me know if anything is callous or offensively-put WRT trans issues and such. These issues are important to me and I wanna make sure they're all portrayed with their due sensitivity even though they're being discussed by a Babadook-esque monster and an anime albino in a piece of fanfiction.
> 
> Near being nonbinary was perhaps most famously explored in the 2016 Death Note television drama series, so credit where credit is due. I still need to watch that show, everything I hear about it makes it sound amazing.
> 
> big hella special thanks to a dear friend and fellow NB from the land down under... u kno who you are, ilu <3


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